Die A Little

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

I was angry.

No, I was furious.

Brian had dragged me to this damn place full of people that hated me (as did I return the feeling to them). He had left me alone, knowing that I wasn't a one for partying in the first place, just so that he could go and get drunk off his ass and make a fool of himself.

I eyed the stack of beer cases beside me in the kitchen, soon looking through the doorway into the living room. I could see everyone having fun, almost feeling pressured to joining in. I was fighting a battle of responsibility inside of my head before, eventually, the anger won. I snatched a bottle from the counter and tore the cap off, drowning the sharp taste down my throat. It felt bitterly sweet to be reliving the night that I met Brian now that I was here arguing with him.

I threw back a load more on an empty stomach and pretty soon I was staggering my way through the people. The music was blasting, my vision hazy and my body numb to the touch. It was the psychedelic trip of my lifetime as I let go and had some fun of my own. For once, I felt like the people I went to school with didn't hate me, they were hooting and hollering, clearing a circle in the middle of the room where I lost all trace of thought. This whole 'having fun' idea wasn't such a bad thing; I could get used to it.

I soon felt a hand clasp at the collar of my shirt and force me out of the dancing circle, dragging me through a gap in the chaos until we had reached the bathroom. I was shoved into the sink, turning around to find Brian closing the door and locking us in the room. His eyes met with mine and his face was one of thunder.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He growled.

"Having fun, Brian, you should try it sometime." I hiccupped, mimicking his words from earlier on in the kitchen.

"This isn't you, Sal." He sighed, rubbing his thumb and forefinger at his brows.

"You're right," I agreed; my words slurred from the intoxication. "It's the new me."

I stumbled around drunkenly. "And I love it."

"No, you don't." Brian corrected, cocking a knowing brow at me.

"You're right." I nodded.

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Just a little," I giggled immaturely.

"I think it's time we leave." Brian suggested. "Come on, let's go."

"No." I denied. "You wanted to have fun, so go have it!"

"How can I when you're killing yourself with alcohol all because you're mad at me for wanting some space?" Brian uttered. "Now, get your ass in the fucking car before I make you."

"Ooh, I love a man who takes charge." I purred, rubbing my hands up and down his arm.

"You know what," Brian huffed, jolting himself out of my grasp. "You can stay. I'm going home."

"Party pooper." I pouted, stumbling into the mirror.

"Good luck getting home, Sal." Brian warned, turning to the door and unlocking the latch.

"I don't need you!" I shouted over the music. "I don't need anybody!"

Brian took one last look in my eyes; the melancholy in his gaze shining bright under the darkness of the tension between us.

"Goodnight, Sal." Were the last words that he told me before he made his way out of the bathroom and left the party.

I staggered back into the atmospheric-filled living room; the music deafening me and causing a headache to strike through me. I grimaced and held my hands to my ears, pushing through until I had made it to the kitchen and bumping into someone once there.